The Summer's End Read Free Page A

sensation that her future was only just beginning.

    The sea was calling her. Carson lay in the dim light of her bedroom listening to the incessant roar of her old friend the ocean. It was rare for the waves to come in hard, as they were now. When they did, Carson had always grabbed her board and gone to the water. It was in her nature to do so. Salt water ran in her veins.
    Carson didn’tjump from her bed this morning, however. She continued to lie still, her palms resting on her abdomen. She no longer was free to follow her whims. No longer the fearless surfer or world traveler, able to pick up and leave when she wished.
    She let her fingers gently stroke her belly, still flat despite the life growing beneath the taut skin. So much for her womanly intuition. It had taken the echolocation of one very intuitive dolphin to tell her she was pregnant.
    â€œOh, baby,” she crooned. “What am I going to do with you? I’m not married, I don’t have a job, I don’t even have my own place to live. How am I going to take care of you?”
    She brought to mind her last conversation with Lucille, the night she’d died. Carson had been struggling with what to do about the pregnancy and went to Lucille to sit at her knee, as she had so many times growing up, and once more ask for advice. Lucille hadn’t told her what to do. That wasn’t her style. Instead, the old woman guided Carson’s thoughts to find her own answer. Carson would never forget her words.
    You’ve got good instincts. Listen to them. Trust them. You’ll know what to do.
    Carson knew Lucille was right. When she was surfing, Carson had to trust her instincts on the wave, to know when to step left or right. It was all a matter of balance.
    She had to listen to her instincts now. It didn’t make sense for her to have a baby now. All her rational arguments were against it. But over the rational thoughts her instincts spoke loud and clear. That and her raging hormones, she thought with a snort. Lying on the bed, listening to the echoing sound of the waves rolling to the shore,Carson knew she had to ride this wave home.
    â€œWell, baby,” she said, patting her tummy, “it’s me and you now. I’m not running away.”

    Dora’s arm shot out to silence the alarm clock. She groggily opened one eyelid: 7:00 a.m.
    â€œRise and shine,” she mumbled.
    Dora moved in a stupor, accustomed to the routine. She dressed quickly in running clothes, splashed cool water on her face, applied SPF moisturizer, then did a few stretches. This past summer she’d learned that she had to get her exercise done first thing in the morning, because if she waited, she’d slip into a thousand lame excuses why she didn’t have time. She’d learned to make time for the things that mattered to her.
    And nothing mattered more to her than her son.
    Dora swiftly walked down the hall and gingerly pushed open the door to Nate’s room. She wrinkled her nose at the stuffy, closed-in smell. Nate, unlike the rest of the inhabitants of Sea Breeze, did not like to sleep with his windows open. He was adamant about his likes and dislikes, quick to let you know if something was right or, more often, wrong. She went to the side of his bed and stood for a moment, staring into her nine-year-old son’s face.
    Her heart bloomed with love for him. Did a child ever look more angelic than when asleep? she wondered. Nate’s long, pale lashes fluttered against his cheeks. His lips were slightly parted as he breathed heavily. He was small for his age, but histhin frame had filled out this summer at Sea Breeze and his skin glowed with a tan. Sea Breeze had been so good for Nate, on many levels. He loved the water now. Dora smiled. She called him her little fish. As her eyes hungrily roamed his face, she noted that his shaggy blond hair needed a trim, and she made a mental note to take him to the barber. It would be a fight, she